


Someone's Gonna Get Hurt

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Casual Sex, Crack, Hand Jobs, Humor, I don't even know to be honest, M/M, Mild Smut, Smut, Sports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:19:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Harry goes golfing with a couple of pals. Gets bitten by a snake, naturally. Luckily Liam is there to save the day. Or... something.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone's Gonna Get Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously inspired by [these](https://twitter.com/Real_Liam_Payne/status/382335116233936897) [two](https://twitter.com/Real_Liam_Payne/status/382335899876741120) amazing, iconic tweets from Liam, oh my god I will be laughing about this forever and also thought it deserved to be immortalized with some light smut so voilà.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** All of this is completely made up and not true at all, also if you're ever bitten by a snake obviously seek actual professional medical attention immediately, do not consult this fic for any sort of medical advice.

Golf, Harry decided, was a really fucking stupid game.

Sure, it seemed like a good idea in theory: the great outdoors, the smell of freshly cut grass, the Zen-like peace and quiet. Lovely, all of it.

So maybe it wasn’t golf that was stupid after all. Maybe it was just snakes. _Motherfucking_ snakes. Motherfucking snakes like the one that had just bitten Harry, for example.

He couldn’t quite believe it had happened, like, getting bitten by a snake didn’t seem like a real thing that really happened to people in real life. Harry had just been minding his own business, picking his way through deep rough in search of the ball he had sliced into the trees, when he felt a sudden, sharp sting on his leg.

“Ow.”

He looked down, expecting to see a bee or a wasp or whatever other flying, sting-y thing was in season at the moment. But instead he just saw the tail end of a long, thin black shape slithering off into the grass, and four tiny holes in his golf trousers on the inside of his right calf.

Which, okay. Mystery solved. So what next? He really needed to tell someone, probably. Niall and Cal were out on the fairway at that very moment; one of them might know what to do.

Well, Cal might know what to do.

But was he even supposed to move? What if the snake was poisonous? How could you tell? Should he try to catch it for identification purposes? Roll up his trouser leg and start sucking out the venom himself? What if there was no venom? He’d feel like an idiot, sure, but wasn’t it better to be safe than sorry? What if it was already too late?

Fortunately, Harry was spared further unproductive and increasingly dark musings by the timely arrival of a gallant white knight.

Okay well, just Niall actually, but he did look pretty dashing in his crisp golfing attire.

“Alright, Harry?” he asked.

“Um,” Harry said slowly. “Not really sure… I think I may have just been bitten by a snake.”

“Seriously?” Niall sighed and clasped his hands behind his head, clearly at a complete loss for how to handle this. “Well, can you walk?”

Harry moved his leg experimentally. It certainly didn’t feel like deadly poison was coursing through his veins, but who was to say for sure?

“Yeah,” he decided, “I think so.”

“Alright then, c’mon.”

“But,” said Harry,” I haven’t found my ball.”

“We’ll find it later,” Niall assured him. “I think the first thing we need to find is a doctor.”

 

* * *

 

The short distance between the third fairway and the clubhouse was made even shorter by Cal’s borderline-reckless golf cart driving. Both he and Niall seemed as baffled by the situation as Harry, not to mention moderately alarmed and doing a poor job of hiding it.

“What’s your protocol here for dealing with, um, snake bites?” Cal asked the first staff member they came across, a bored-looking teenage girl sitting at a desk and handing out towels to the seemingly endless parade of old, fat, balding men walking in and out of the saunas.

She simply blinked in response to the question, so that seemed like a promising start. “Was it poisonous?” she asked.

“Was it poisonous, Harry?” Niall repeated anxiously.

“I heard her, thank you,” said Harry, now more irritated by all the fuss than by the pain in his leg, which had already dulled considerably. “And I’ve no idea.”

“Well, you could like, call an ambulance, I guess?” the attendant suggested. “Or we have an on-site emergency medic, you could see what they say.”

“There’s a medic here, right now,” Cal repeated for clarification.

“Yeah.”

“So we should probably be talking to them instead of you.”

“Hey, don’t be rude,” protested Harry.

“Thank you,” the girl said, suddenly much more enthusiastic about assisting them after giving Harry a not-at-all-subtle once-over.  “The medic’s office is just down that corridor, take a left when you get to the end.

“Cheers,” said Harry, limping off after Niall and Cal.

“If you don’t die, call me!” the girl shouted after him.

 

* * *

 

The medic’s office was not the spacious, bustling hub Harry expected, staffed by multiple friendly and helpful nurses in clean white uniforms with matching hats. But then, why should it be? Nothing else about the day was turning out as expected, so.

The door to the office was nearly identical to the one next to it, which had ended up leading to a musty supply closet. Upon closer inspection, a faint outline of the word “MEDIC” was visible against the dark wood grain, so as long as your medical issue didn’t have to do with vision impairment you could figure out whether you were in the right place. Cal knocked firmly and they waited for a moment, exchanging glances that fluctuated between impatience and anxiety.

“Fuck it,” said Niall, grabbing the door handle and pushing it open.

The room beyond was only slightly bigger than the broom cupboard they had discovered previously, but it was clean and well-lit, largely taken up by a single, elevated examination table next to a traditional doctor’s office-type sink/counter set-up with cabinets above and below, along with a pair of unoccupied wooden chairs on one side of a small office desk. On the other, a reasonably attractive, surprisingly young-looking guy sat with his feet propped up on the desk, head buried in a comic book, music blaring from oversized headphones.

“Hello,” he said cheerfully, eyes lighting up when he saw the visitors. The headphones and comic disappeared with almost freakish speed, and feet were withdrawn from the desk. “How can I help you?”

“Are you the medic?” Harry asked skeptically.

“Sure am,” came the chipper reply, “got a badge and everything. See?” He unclipped a plastic square from his denim gilet and held it out for Harry’s examination.

The thing looked authentic enough, with a smiling photograph that matched closely enough if you took into account the fact that it seemed to be at least a year dated, along with the words “Emergency Medic” and a name: Liam Payne.

Interesting. Harry handed back the badge, eyeing Liam intently. He catalogued the light stubble on his neck, the slightly mischievous glint in his eye, the way his biceps seemed to strain against the thin white T-shirt under his gilet, and revised his initial assessment from “reasonably attractive” to insanely, ridiculously, unfairly sexy.

Right. Well. Speaking of things not going as expected.

“Thanks, Liam,” he said, mind working quickly now that he knew more or less how he wanted the rest of this visit to turn out, and not wanting to waste too much more time on the preliminaries. “I’m Harry. These are my friends. They brought me here, for which I am very grateful,” he added, turning briefly to Niall and Cal so that they wouldn’t feel too jilted, “but they’re leaving now because, um, that thing where I’m the patient, so like, no one else is allowed to know my condition, right? Do you know what I’m talking about, or did I just make that up?”

“Um,” said Liam, “you mean doctor-patient confidentiality?”

“Yes! Exactly. Doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“But we already know what’s wrong with you,” Niall protested, not quite grasping that the situation had changed.

“I think I can manage from here,” said Harry, gently guiding Niall and Cal back out the door. “I’ll call you once Dr. Liam has sorted me out.”

“I’m not technically a doctor,” Liam pointed out as Harry collapsed into a chair, long limbs sprawling. His leg twinged slightly, reminding him of the initial reason for the visit. “This is more of a summer gig, actually. But, um, what’s bothering you?”

“I got bitten by a snake,” Harry said calmly. “Out on the golf course.”

The change in Liam’s demeanor was instantaneous, and might have been alarming if not for the sheer absurdity of the topic at hand. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, those bloody snakes! I keep saying someone’s gonna get hurt, but d’you think anyone listens to what I say?”

“Doesn’t seem like it, no.”

“Well, maybe they’ll listen now.”

“Maybe,” said Harry. “You’d think they could put out some signs, at least.”

“Exactly.”

“Like, warning signs: Very dangerous snakes ahead.”

“Snake habitat: turn around,” Liam suggested, getting in the spirit.

“Abandon hope all ye who enter here.”

The last one stopped Liam short. “Are you taking the piss?” he asked.

“Little bit, yeah.”

 Liam sighed, seeming to have vented most of his frustration for the time being. “Sorry, it’s just one of those things, you know?”

“Sure,” said Harry, “no apology necessary.”

“How’s the bite?”

Harry shrugged. “Hurts a little still, not too bad.”

“Want me to take a look?”

“Could you? It’s on my left testicle.”

The look on Liam’s face as he struggled to maintain some degree of professionalism was priceless, but Harry simply couldn’t leave him hanging for long.  

“Joking, mate,” he said with a grin. “Want me up on the table?”

“Er, yeah, that’s good.”

Harry stood. The bite was easily visible if he simply hitched up his trouser leg, but, deciding he was nowhere near finished having fun with Liam, he decided to remove his trousers and shoes entirely. The thin paper across the exam table surface crinkled as he sat and watched Liam walk over, now wearing a pair of thick-framed black glasses and wow, okay, that was unexpectedly hot. Like some sort of librarian/jock hybrid, sexy, smart _and_ strong. Jesus.

“So where did the snake actually bite you?”

“Right here, I think,” said Harry, propping his foot up on the table and prodding at his calf.

Liam leaned down to examine the four tiny pinprick wounds, which were already scabbed over. “Did you see it at all? The snake?”

“A little bit, yeah. It was pretty small and like, black. Or maybe dark brown.”

“And did it have any white or yellow stripes going round its tail?”

“Um.” Harry didn’t recall any stripes, but now that Liam had made the suggestion he couldn’t say for certain that there hadn’t been.

“This is very important, Harry; try to remember.”

“Yeah, I think it did have them,” he decided finally.

“You’re sure?”

“Pretty sure, yeah.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” said Liam, removing his glasses and stashing them in the chest pocket of his gilet.

“What? Why?”

“Because there’s a very strong chance that you were bitten by a coastal gopher snake, which, as I’m sure you know, is the most venomous snake in the UK. You’ll probably be dead within the hour.”

“What, seriously?”

Liam grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a way that Harry had to admit was really just unnecessarily adorable. “Fuck, no,” he said. “‘Coastal gopher snake’? Come on.”

“Twat.”

“You started it,” Liam pointed out. “That was probably just a garden snake, by the way; you’ll be fine.”

“So, no deadly venom?” Harry asked, heart still pounding slightly harder than usual thanks to the scare.

“Don’t think so,” said Liam. “Have you gone numb in your leg? Or anywhere else?”

“No.”

“Feeling feverish or sick to your stomach?”

“Nope.”

“Does it feel like someone’s drilling into your skin or eyeballs with like, a thousand tiny jackhammers?”

“Jesus, no.”

“Good, cos I made that last symptom up.”

Harry wasn’t sure what he wanted to do more, punch Liam or kiss him, so he settled on a compromise and simply glared.

“Oh, calm down, you’re fine. Might want to go to a real doctor and get some antibiotics in case of infection since I can’t actually prescribe anything, though. Honestly, my main job is giving ice packs to old ladies who hurt themselves playing tennis. Do you want an ice pack? Or a plaster?”

“No thanks,” said Harry, feeling a bit more relieved than expected as he hopped off the table. “But there was just this one other thing.”

“Yeah?”

Before he could second-guess himself, Harry hooked his fingers through the belt loops of Liam’s jeans and pulled him back over, mere inches separating the two of them. Liam seemed tense but not necessarily opposed to the development, more like… repressed, Harry decided.

Well, there was one way to find out for sure. He reached for Liam’s fly, and was fiddling with the button when Liam’s hand came up to stop him.

“I’ve never,” he said, “I mean, I’m not…”

“It’s okay,” said Harry. “You don’t have to be anything. But like, you’re just really, really fucking sexy and you haven’t got a clue.”

Liam blushed a little at that, and it was pretty sexy, which sort of proved Harry’s point. “Thanks,” he said. “Um. I like your…” He paused, clearly way out of his depth, dark eyes lighting on Harry’s lips, then his eyes, then his hair, then back again in a pattern that Harry was exceedingly familiar with, appreciating the attention even though it both amused and perplexed him.  

Liam exhaled. “Oh, fuck,” he said, and leaned in to kiss Harry with surprising force, tangling his fingers in Harry’s unruly curls.

Harry seized the opportunity to slip his own hand inside the waist of Liam’s pants, and okay wow, that was impressive. Liam inhaled sharply but didn’t stop kissing Harry, instead venturing to territory beyond his mouth, nipping an ear lobe, dragging his tongue along the smooth curve of his jawline.

It was Harry’s turn to gasp as he suddenly found Liam’s hand around his cock, firm and a little rough but still good and well actually make that perfect and yeah okay wow so like this was happening.

“Fuck,” said Liam again, his last coherent word before falling into a series of obscene, impressively loud noises. Part of Harry was like, okay calm down mate it’s just a hand job and also what would your old tennis ladies think if they heard this? On the other hand, it was kind of like ridiculously hot, and the thought of someone walking in on the two of them as they wrecked each other was enough to make Harry come with toe-curling force.

Liam followed a couple of vigorous pumps later, and then they just stayed there for a second, foreheads pressed together, panting lightly but the sort that comes from raw, momentarily satisfied lust rather than actual exhaustion.

“Hmm,” said Harry. It was a sort of amused half-laugh, half-hum, the kind that people often missed.

But Liam didn’t miss it, obviously; Harry suspected that he didn’t miss much. “What?”

“Just thinking,” Harry said, and then decided to elaborate because why not, after all? “That snake bite was totally worth it.” 

**Author's Note:**

> OK well I don't even know what just happened to be honest, also I am home sick today and pretty dosed on cold medicine so I'm blaming that for everything. But I hope you liked reading it as much as I liked writing it, which was a lot although I am now 100% convinced that I will never enjoy anything as much as I enjoy @Real_Liam_Payne on Twitter. 
> 
> Peace, y'all.


End file.
